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It's Saturday evening and I know that no one is going to be reading this right now, but I am going to write a post anyway.

Because I have nothing better to do.BecauseI am really fucking important and when I say stuff it should be considered news even if it isn't.Because I have nothing to say but I still feel the need to say things. Because I care.

So anyway... I might be dying. I know I've said that before - probably lots of times - but this time it is totally possible. And it isn't from Ebola. I still might have Ebola, but I guess I'll never know because I am dying from something new now.

Remember how I live in Montana? Well, Montana is really, really fucking cold right now (and yes, using the F-word was totally necessary there because you wouldn't understand how cold it is if I just said "really, really cold"). It was eight degrees last night. Eight. Degrees. Fahrenheit. (In slightly less amazing news, I know how to spell Fahrenheit all by myself. Who needs spell check when you can spell Fahrenheit all by yourself? Answer: No one.) That's -13 degrees Celsius to my international readers. Yeah, my blog has readers in other countries. It's no big deal...

Anyway, I just got back from a run. I snuck onto a private golf course and ran around in the snow.

Did I mention that it snowed here too? Because it did. It snowed like 5 inches.

Do you ever wake up and look outside and your yard is covered in a perfect blanket of completely untouched snow and then you get an immediate, unconquerable urge to go out and destroy that perfection as soon as possible? And because of the urgency you feel, you don't even have time to put on pants and then you are running around in your yard kicking the snow and your neighbors are sitting in their house eating breakfast and suddenly they don't feel like eating breakfast anymore because they are so embarrassed that the rest of the neighborhood can see your shorts that are kind of actually underwear but also kind of shorts that you wear in public sometimes because they are definitely more shorts than underwear but not everyone else feels that way?

Well, that's how I feel about snow.

And I wasn't satisfied with just destroying the snow in my yard. I was for a little bit, but I came inside and then I started thinking about how much snow there was in other places and that that snow was probably still perfect and undisturbed and it was just sitting there on the ground feeling all high and mighty and I just had to go knock it out of its fucking high tower. I had to find something bigger and better than my yard -- hence the golf course.

I had a lot of fun running up and down the fairways and destroying the snow - especially because I wasn't supposed to be there. Every step was like a mini - revolution! Basically, it was like being Che Guevara - who is the only revolutionary I can think of right now and whose name I also know how to spell. And that's a good thing because spell check doesn't know who Che Guevara is. But it wasn't just like being Che Guevara. It was like being Che Guevara and also destroying snow. It was awesome!

Anyway, it was really cold and windy, and I was out destroying snow for a very long time, so by the time I got back to my car, I was numb almost everywhere. But I decided that I needed potato chips more than I needed to be warm, so I went to the grocery store before going home but there was a really long line and I was like "seriously?" And the grocery store was serious because the line didn't move any faster.

So I finally got my chips and then I went home and by the time I got in the door, I was shivering so violently that I couldn't even eat my chips. And I realized it was probably because I was still all wet from destroying snow, so I took off my clothes but then I couldn't find my goddamn sweatpants because Boyfriend took them upstairs instead of leaving them in the middle of the floor where I was keeping them and I didn't want to go upstairs because I was too cold, so I got all mad at Boyfriend for moving my sweatpants and he was like "you shouldn't have left them in the middle of the floor!"

And I was like "you will never understand me!" and I tried to run away dramatically but it just looked funny because I wasn't wearing pants.

Then I got all pouty and tried to convince Boyfriend that is was his fault that I was cold so that he'd feel guilty and go upstairs and get my sweatpants for me, but he just ignored me, so I went over to the corner where there was a pile of my dirty clothes and I put on a sweatshirt and a skirt and wrapped myself in a blanket like a burrito.

And now I am sitting on my couch writing a completely pointless post so that you guys can feel sorry for me. It is probably a subconscious attempt at seeking out the understanding that I couldn't get from Boyfriend earlier. But seriously... how is it that he does not understand yet that I keep things in the middle of the floor? If I don't keep my stuff in the middle of the floor, I might need to go upstairs to find it and that would just be ridiculous!

I'm sorry if this post was the worst thing that I have ever written, but you shouldn't judge me because I tried really hard and I didn't have to write a post for you since you probably aren't going to read it anyway. You probably aren't even at your computer. In fact, you are probably out doing fun things while I am sitting here wrapped up like a burrito writing a meaningless, rambling post that no one will read and it will just sit at the top of my page with no comments and I will start worrying that first-time visitors to my blog will see this post first and think "wow, this blog is lame! And it doesn't even get any comments! Ptooo!" (That was the sound of them spitting on my blog.) And then I will feel bad and die faster because I will be unhappy and being unhappy makes you stressed and being stressed makes you die faster.

Plus, I typed most of this post with only one finger because my hands are still kind of numb and that is just pathetic and you should feel sorry for me. I also think I might be hypothermic. That's why I am going to die. I probably should have mentioned that earlier in the post. Oh well.

Edit: I just read this to Boyfriend and he looked kind of upset and he didn't even laugh. So I asked him why he didn't laugh and he said that it was because I lied. He says that he didn't actually ignore me when I pouted about not having sweatpants and that he actually asked me if I wanted him to go upstairs and get my sweatpants for me. I don't know if I believe him because if I believed him I'd have to be really upset with myself for wasting so much of my valuable pouting energy trying to get Boyfriend to do something that he already volunteered to do but I didn't hear him.

Edit: I just read that last edit to Boyfriend to see if he would be satisfied with my portrayal of his actions and then he told me that when he asked if he could go get my sweatpants for me, I actually responded to him. With words. With English words that I don't remember saying. And that is not all! Boyfriend says that when I responded to his question that I don't remember hearing or responding to, I actually told him that I *didn't* want him to go upstairs and get my sweatpants. And now I am stuck wondering whether Boyfriend is lying or I am crazy and neither option is a good option and I am upset.

What a long, rambling, and surprisingly entertaining post! Allie, even the posts you think no one will read are the kinds that are sometimes the most interesting. And just so you don't think no one is reading this, and no one will comment, and I certainly don't want your new readers to freak out with a post with no comments, I thought I'd leave a comment and tell you just how awesome you are, and how amazing your blog is. I was going to try and make you feel better and say I love you, but then I realized that after only spending one night together I couldn't possibly feel love. Maybe just lust. Yes, that's probably it. But you should feel good about that. Oh, and hopefully you're not freaking out yet from my rambling post. You see, you might write long rambling posts when you're cold and upset, I tend to write long, rambling, strange blog comments when I'm tired and only half thinking about what I'm doing. I probably should just stop here, before I write a comment longer than your post. LOL

Carrie Ann and Josh- Thank you for validating my pathetic post. I haven't had much else to do aside from obsessively check for new comments and I was really excited to see that you guys said something and then I was even more excited that what you said was encouraging and that you actually liked my worst post ever which makes me feel like I am probably awesome and now I am actually going to go shower because I feel like I should take care of myself again. I am much less likely to die now because I feel happier and since I am going to go shower, I am also less likely to die of a weird skin parasite! Thank you!

Boyfriend needs to back off of your clothes - leave them where she puts them boyfriend.. I have the same problem with my kids, I put something down and it's never ever where I put it.. This post is great by the way and I really hope you're not dying of ebola or anything other equally dreadful disease.. Son #1 actually did a report on ebola his senior yr. of h.s., it's disgusting...

Eight degrees? I would die. It's only October. You people are out of your minds for living up there. It's 87 degrees here and sunny. In fact, I'm going to the beach and just thinking about your weather makes me more thankful of my location! LOL. Although destroying snow sounds unusually entertaining to me.

can you write your name in the snow? i like to write my name in the snow but i usually only get to 'noo' before i have to drink a bunch more water then wait forever for it to turn into yellow ink so i can finish. i like writing my name in the snow.

I am still perplexed as to how you just linked Che Guevara and destroying snow. How you can pump out a more than decent post in one sitting is beyond me. It takes me forever to write a post, this not hyperbole either. OK see ya.

I read this post Sunday, when I had nothing to do, but I would have read it last night had my boyfriend gotten off the computer for five minutes so I could check my own shit. Instead, I sat there watching him play video games and suck up all of the wireless internet connection so that my own laptop wouldn't load shit.

And...I'm sorry boyfriend moves your things from the middle of the room. I'm guilty of doing it to my own boyfriend, but only because we have rabbits, and the rabbits like big piles of clothes- not to play in, but to pee in, so if I don't, we end up having a big pile of pee clothes. And they only pee on his stuff. So I really think that they think it's just their litter box, because it smells so horrendous. Therefore, they pee in his piles of clothes, but I have to wash them, and I don't want to touch rabbit pee clothes, so I move them.

I do leave my sweatpants and bras in the living room on the side of the couch though. He doesn't like it because when people come over they think we just got done having sex in the living room or something. Which, maybe we did, but why are they being nosy and thinking that my bra and pants are beside the couch because we just had sex? Is that REALLY their business?

So I'm sympathetic. I'm also sympathetic because I remember living in northern Michigan for 22 years and it was in the area known as The Snowbelt- meaning we always got the most snow. And I froze to death on many occasions and ended up being thawed out and resusitated by passersby. It really sucks. I also remember chasing my ex boyfriend down in my car, only I ran out to my car in just socks and pjs, so when my car spun out on ice and ended up in the ditch, I had to walk in just socks and pjs to the nearest house (two miles away) in just that and they wanted to call 911. Not because I was almost dead but because I was nuts for doing that.

Woman in the Midst - Exactly! My house may look messy, but I know where everything is and when someone moves my stuff and makes the house clean, I can't find anything anymore and I just make the house messy again looking for my stuff - which means that both parties (the cleaning party and the destroying party) wasted their time and energy and that messy people should just be allowed to be messy. Maybe... Oh and BTW - I made a few videos per your suggestion. Whether or not I become brave enough to post them is a different story...

TallGuySurfing - now why do you have to go on about how warm it is where you are?? I have blankets nailed up to all of my doors and windows just so my furnace can actually do its job but my furnace never actually does its job, so I have to break out the space heater and sit in front of it wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. I am glad that I could make you appreciate your situation, though!

Carlston - Oh, I've lived with "tropical-heater-people." I think you are right - it is worse. I lived with one roommate who refused to wear anything more than shorts, so he insisted that it was at least 90 degrees in our apartment at all times. I killed his fish, but only accidentally. Not because he made me suffer in an interminable hell of heat. But I could have - that's the point.

Nooter - no, I can't. Well, maybe I could, but I would have to do it while crab-walking and that would make me feel really weird and I would probably pee on myself. I have always wanted to be able to write my name in the snow, though. "Allie" seems like it would be fun to spell out in cursive... So many loops!

Tomer - I don't understand? Are you spamming me? I have FREE spell check right here on my computer - in fact, I think most people have it... I could be wrong. You must understand though - if you spam me again, I will eat you.

Hipsterkrit - I know! I always think I am being completely honest (and I guess I am because I am telling what I know to be the truth at the time of my writing) but then I find out that reality isn't really the way I thought it was - and then I don't know what to believe... By the way, it is awesome that you read me from your iPhone. In communist Russia, Allie no have iPhone - iPhone have Allie.

timoteo - Can I just say how much I love that you are still writing your comments in letter form? That is dedication! And thank you for the compliment. I guess I never thought about how long it takes the average person to write a post... I don't know if I am below or above average when it comes to post -writing time, but now I definitely wonder...

mysterg - Ptoo! :) I spit on your support of Boyfriend! His actions are unsupportable!

Sorcerer - it is amazing to me that there are places where there is no snow. I've almost always lived in places with snow. One winter in Idaho, we got seven feet of snow!

Kritta22 - now how did you learn that?? I am skeptical... :)

Girl Meets Gun - THAT WAS AWESOME! I love when I get a good belly laugh out of my own comments section!

Oh man, I know EXACTLY how you feel. My boyfriend is always saying that he told me things that I don't remember, and then when I say I didn't hear him he says I answered him and I'm like what? are you sure? And then I get all freaked out because I DON'T REMEMBER MY LIFE and that is a symptom of Multiple Personalities Disorder. Sometimes it happens when he comes to bed and I can't really be held responsible because I'm pretty much asleep even if I am apparently having conversations, but sometimes we're just sitting around and I'm just doing other stuff and so I mean to be listening to him and I think I am but then I realize that I'm not and I don't know what he was saying and I'm a bad girlfriend but why can't he just wait until the commercials to talk? I really need to know if that annoying couple chose the house with the pool or the house with the refinished basement but the ugly kitchen.

ADHD is baaad. Sometimes you can't focus on anything. Sometimes you hyperfocus and nothing can distract you... and I totally respond to hubby in coherent, straightforward sentences and have NO MEMORY WHATSOEVER of doing so.

Of course, he does the same thing to me. Sometimes I'm amazed that we communicate at all. A paid of pipple with ADHD makes for an interesting relationship.